Box full o' honey
by idioticonion
Summary: A fourth of July weekend full of miscommunication and misunderstanding. Robin and Barney finally talk. This is set in the hiatus after Season 5 but includes no spoilers for Season 6.
1. Chapter 1

Robin leans back slightly in the booth, her smile fixed and over-bright, not quite reaching her eyes.

Lily and Marshall talk over each other, two parts of one story where the threads knit effortlessly together to make a whole. Ted smiles, a one-man fan club for the Aldrin/Eriksen show, no doubt seeing the mythical marriage of perfection he desperately longs for. After a while, Barney joins them. He saunters into the bar, grabs the back of a chair and flips it around, legs scraping against the stone floor as he settles on the end of the booth. Avoiding eye contact with him is easy these days; he doesn't exactly seek her out. There was a time when the two of them were thick as theives, like they were in their own little club. Barney-and-Robin, against the world.

Now there's a stone in Robin's chest, in her abdomen. There's something hard and cold there that makes her heart race and her eyes water. She wills herself not to think about Don, but it's a desperate cycle she's gotten herself stuck in. She wonders if this is what depression feels like.

Out of the blue, Barney chuckles at something Lily-Marshall has said and, because he's so near to her, the sound reverberates and feels strange. He's so close, their elbows are practically touching. If she moves an inch, she'll bump into him.

All Robin can think about is whether he's laughing at her. If feels like they're all sniggering, him worst of all.

Being here in MacLaren's with them, with her closest friends, is a daily reminder of her circumstance. It just makes Robin feel worse. It's torture. This past year seems like a string of missteps, a catalogue of mistakes. Robin analyses it, worries about it, builds scenarios in her head where she confronts Don.

She imagines the emails she'll write to him, the telephone calls she'll make. She imagines standing tall with maybe a single brave tear in her eye, balling him out about his failure, his betrayal.

But truth be told he was almost her perfect guy. Experienced, funny, not demanding. Career driven, like her.

Hah. So much for "career driven".

Because it hurts, because she feels so dramatic inside, so much like screaming out loud, Robin forces herself to stay in her seat until Lily and Marshall leave, until Ted complains about an early morning class and heads upstairs.

"What's so funny?" Robin snaps, when she sees Barney's expression, sees the smirk twitching at the edge of his lips. He probably feels so smug, so self-righteous right now. Seeing her fail like this, seeing her fall, when they'd agreed that long-term relationships weren't for them.

It's not like she was looking for anything long-term with Don. Stability isn't the same as long-term.

"Nothing," Barney replies, but there's a half-laugh in the word that grates on her nerves.

"Oh shut up," Robin reaches for her drink, a bone dry red wine, room temperature, which does little to slake her thirst.

Barney has the sense to look sheepish. "Wow, sorry for existing, dude. What's crawled up your-?"

"Barney," she interrupts him with a low warning.

He shrugs, and lets the silence settle between them, seemingly content to savour his scotch and scope the room. Eventually his blue eyes settle back on her, bright and twinkling.

The vacuum, the distance between them, it presses down on her. She doesn't mean to do it, not with Barney, it's just that he's in the wrong place at the right time. He always is, somehow.

Slowly, falteringly at first, Robin begins to speak, a stream of words that becomes a torrent that pours and sputters out of her. She talks and talks until she barely knows what she's saying any more, except that she needs to purge everything that's stuck inside her. It's easy to forget that it's Barney she's talking to, and for a while she does.

So when the admission tumbles from her lips it takes her by surprise. His reaction, the raw pain she sees there, makes her wish more than anything else she could take it back.

Just those last few words.

And they could be Barney-and-Robin again, with him comforting her like he always does, and maybe she could stop hurting for just one god damn minute.

_...To be continued._


	2. Chapter 2

There is nothing better than being with her. It feels… just so nice. Although Barney hates that word. "Nice", it's such a bland word, it doesn't really convey how he feels about the headstrong Canadian.

"Nice" doesn't conjure up the warmth that spreads through his belly whenever he's near her. The word is too small to describe the lift he feels at her every word, how his face breaks into a weird, spontaneous smile, no matter how cool he tries to appear.

They've seen a lot more of Robin since Don's been out of the picture and Barney refuses to feel selfish for liking that. He _likes_ it - hanging out with Robin. She makes him feel… good. Glowing. She makes him glow. She's the only woman who's ever made him even think the word "glow".

Or "nice". Barney doesn't do "nice". Not with women. But then Robin's always been more than just another woman to him, even back when she was his Bro-with-boobs.

And she's distracting. Throughout the evening, Robin makes acid comments; tiny biting remarks. She makes him laugh, then tells him to shut up.

Somehow, three scotch-and-sodas later, it's just him and her and a bar full of bimbos who hold less than zero appeal for him. It's not like he has any illusions of taking Robin to bed, even if she was willing.

But it's _nice_. There's that word again. It's vaguely flattering that she opens up to him, and seemingly him alone; that she seems less concerned about being judged. He enjoys watching her guard come down as she works her way single-handedly through a bottle of wine. Eventually, as her looks become dishevelled and her accent thickens, he wants to interject, to tell her to slow down a pace. He can see the edges of despair in her, something he'd suspected was there but she does an incredible job of hiding from them.

He's glad she's finally let that shine through. He knows a little about despair, about hiding it, about not dealing with it. He knows what an asshole it sometimes makes you.

It's not like Barney's even come out of the other side yet to guide her through, but at least he can support her. At least he can empathize. He knows how it feels having to let go of someone you love.

And even like this, even ragged, with a hitched-sob in her voice, lips stained burgundy from the wine, eyes glazed... even like this she's beautiful.

Even like this she makes him glow.

"I can't believe this happened to me," Robin slurs. "The one time I take a leap, and the guy I loved just bolts."

That stings a little, that Robin doesn't think she took a leap for him. But hey, Barney lets it pass, the alcohol deadening his reactions.

"It was stupid. Stupid decision-making brain! And then I get back home and I make out with- I almost make out with- Ted, and-"

The rest of what Robin's saying goes fuzzy with static, like a radio station with the signal gone bad. Did she just say she almost made out with Ted?

"I mean, can you imagine?" Robin continues, her gaze suddenly sharp and focussed. "We might have kissed. And then… other things. We didn't mean to. It just happened! And then it only didn't happen because of his hair. Stupid blonde hair…"

Robin's rambling now, her voice a little panicky. Her words doing the job of a pint of coffee and a cold shower and suddenly Barney feels unbearably sober.

He blinks.

Thoughts collide in his head and overlap chaotically, too fast for him to process. Thoughts like, she was Ted's first... and it wouldn't be their first backslide. And Ted's still in love with her.

Robin was in love with Ted but maybe the thing with Don was more serious than he thought, maybe she's ready for marriage? Maybe he doesn't know her at all?

Mostly Barney's just aware of how much it hurts.

"I'm sorry," Robin says, and jeez, there's pity in her eyes; pity for poor, love-struck Barney Stinson, who was always the reacher.

"I didn't mean to," she grimaces.

She's the settler. She doesn't mean to be, but she is.

_To be continued..._


	3. Chapter 3

_Barney has no right!_

He has no right to make puppy dog eyes at her like she's somehow betrayed him. They're not a couple. Heck, it makes the fury rise up in her gut and her fists clench just to think about that. Before she knows it, Robin's angry as hell.

"What?" She demands, because his expression says it all. His stupid expressive expression.

She's dimly aware that she might just be a little drunk. But she can handle it. She's Canadian and she's got anti-freeze running in her veins.

Somewhere deep inside, a small voice tells her that yeah, that's why she's so cold. That's why she didn't anticipate Barney's reaction. And it had felt so good, to finally get the truth of what happened between her and Ted out there. It's not something she can tell Marshall, because he's been so freakin' sanctimonious lately. And it's not even something she can tell Lily, because Lily would interfere.

It's not something she should tell an ex, but then Robin's never really thought of Barney as an ex. Even when he's had every reason to hate her, they've still had this brother-sister vibe going on.

Only not brother-sister, because that would be creepy. Jeez.

Robin shakes herself, derailing her train of thought and glares at him.

Barney pales, visibly. "What? Nothing! What?" He replies, nonsensically.

"Stop being weird!" Robin demands. "We didn't actually kiss. I was drunk. Ted was drunk."

"You're drunk now. Doesn't mean you're gonna kiss me!" Barney protests.

Their knees knock as she lunges for him, her palms slapping either side of his face as she pulls him towards her. Then her mouth crashes into his, violent with frustration and anger and the need to just be _right_, just for once.

To win, just for once. That would be nice.

It's supposed to prove a point, that kiss, but when the initial fury fades, Robin finds herself still lip-locked with Barney, their tongues clashing, for a full minute before either one of them is ready to break away.

It surprises her than he does.

"You need to go to bed," he says gruffly. His lips look puffy.

"Terrible pick up line, dude," she scoffs.

"It wasn't," he says, coldly. "You need to go to bed alone. You're drunk."

It feels like a slap. It's shocking and she resents it. What's the matter? Has he lost interest in her now? "Drunk and vulnerable. I thought that was your type," she snaps.

He doesn't reply, just shakes his head ever-so-slightly, and gets to his feet. He's as unsteady as she is, she notices. How much have they both had to drink tonight? If the answer is "too much" then why isn't anything happening between them? Robin's fury is making her horny. She wants angry-sex right now and Barney's not playing his allotted role.

He doesn't say goodbye, doesn't look at her. His gaze sweeps across the bar and she can see his jaw working, like he's grinding his teeth. His hands are balled into fists, knuckles white.

Then he turns on his heels and walks out on her, leaving without a backward glance. And because Robin's pride is at stake, she doesn't run after him, doesn't call him or even text him. She remains seated, outwardly calm, but feeling the flush of warmth on her own cheeks as the shame burns inside her. Then her annoyance turns inward, savage and bitter, as she slowly and deliberately finishes her wine.

"Jerk face," she mutters when she gets to her feet, lifting her chin and shooting a haughty glare at Carl over at the bar. The effect is ruined somewhat by her unsteady stumble towards the door.

She calls in sick to work. The last thing she wants to do is talk to anyone right now.

"Jerk face", she growls again as her head hits the pillow and the room begins to spin. But she doesn't know who she means and who she's really angry with. Barney, or herself?

_To be continued…_


	4. Chapter 4

_#~Friday_

"So, what're we doing tonight?"

Barney blinks and pulls his cell phone from his ear, checking the name on the screen. Then he grunts and rubs his eyes. He's still in bed. "Ted?"

"Uh, yeah! I was thinking of a Fourth of July movie marathon. Independence day, Die Hard 4 and, hmmm, Jaws?"

It's way too early to deal with this. The bedroom is a mess and stinks of stale whiskey. In fact, Barney is pretty sure he's still drunk. Or at least in that horrible place where you start to feel hungover while, unaccountably, still _being_ drunk. Which is kind of unfair, if you think about it.

"Ted, call me later. I'm busy."

There's a snort down the line. "Barney, you're never too busy for Friday night. Unless you've got a girl in your office. Dude! Are you banging your secretary again? Not cool."

Digging the heel of his palm into one eye socket, Barney groans and tries to focus on the digital display of his bedside clock.

Ten o'clock? Crap. He's slept through the sunrise, the sounds of the waking city and his alarm. That's bad.

The events of the previous night come back to him, suddenly and in sharp focus.

"Sorry man, gotta go," he croaks, and throws his cell across the bed. He's been drinking way too much lately, steadily eroding both his liver and his soul. Ted's voice still echoes in his ears, amiable and enthusiastic. He had sounded so innocent, so _normal_. Of course, Ted doesn't know.

Or is it that Ted doesn't know that _he_ knows?

That is, Ted doesn't know that he knows about Ted and Robin's almost-kiss.

Or, come to think of it, Ted doesn't know that he kissed Robin. Or did she kiss him? There was definitely some kissing going on last night. Robin had snuck up on him with stealth kissage and, against all odds, he'd retreated instead of launching a counter-strike. What the hell?

Ted doesn't know about that kiss and he's never going to. There's a lot Ted doesn't know about kisses, it seems.

Heading for the shower, Barney's stomach turns over. He swallows down a mouth full of bile and twists the faucet all the way across to "cold". Then he forces himself stand under the water until the force of it drills into his skull, until he hurts as much on the outside as he's starting to inside.

Thing is, he can't deal with these emotions. His thoughts are too sluggish, his heart feels weird and heavy. He can't deal with weirdness, be it from Ted, or Robin, or anyone. Work feels like a chore, because Marshall will be there, his great big face split into his usual "thank god it's Friday" grin and expecting Barney to provide his usual weekend awesomeness.

Awesometude?

For some reason he doesn't really understand, even ounce of awesome has drained right out of him. Stepping out of the shower, Barney catches his reflection in the mirror. He looks red raw and beaten down. He throws a towel round his waist and heads to kitchen for some Red Bull.

On automatic he checks his cell. There are a couple of missed calls and a few messages.

None are from her.

#~- #~-

"I need to think about this," Robin says out loud.

Lily starts in her seat, knocking Robin's coffee cup and spilling a little of the steaming liquid over the table, only to hurriedly mop it up again with a napkin. If there was ever a chick ready to be a mom, Robin muses, it's Lily.

"What's that sweetie?" Lily asks her.

Robin feels a pang of guilt for taking advantage of Lily's passion for retail therapy today. She'd swung by Lily's kindergarten class at the end of the day and dragged her out shopping. Although, come to think of it, they haven't done so much shopping as they have people-watching.

It's not that Robin doesn't want to be alone, exactly. She just doesn't want to have to think too much. Her head still aches.

"I think I've done something stupid," Robin blurts, then covers her mouth with her hand. This is so not like her. She's Robin Scherbatsky and she doesn't get flustered or confused. She's cool in the face of emotional distress. She's an ice queen.

Or something…

Lily gives her a weak, encouraging grin. Her best friend knows better than to push her for answers. That's the one sure-fire way to get Robin to clam up faster than a… clam? God that's lame.

Robin feels so disjointed today.

She tells herself that last night was too fuzzy to remember much. She knows there were vague images, tastes, sounds and a whole lot of red wine. She remembers some angry ranting, and Barney.

And… Barney.

"I kissed Barney," Robin says, with quiet horror. _And_ she told Barney about her thing with Ted. The near-kiss. She's so wrapped up in the memory that it takes her a few seconds to register the reaction from Lily across the table.

Lily's grinning - her cherubic face beaming like it's Christmas and Thanksgiving all rolled into one. "You kissed Barney? Really? Oh Robin! I knew you two would get back together again! I was just saying to Marshall last night..."

Robin groans and shakes her head while the juggernaut of Lily's enthusiasm rattles along. And she thinks it might be a good idea if she stopped confiding in people.

_To be continued…_


	5. Chapter 5

"No, Lily. NO!" Robin interrupts, inadvertently using the same tone she uses when her dogs misbehave. She shakes her head, holding up her hand. "Sorry, but it's not like that. It was an accident."

"Oh come on," Lily's still smiling. "You don't accidentally kiss someone."

"I almost kissed Ted a few weeks ago."

"What?"

Yeah, because that hardly makes it any better! Robin takes a deep breath and tries to wrestle back some control over the conversation. "Look, Barney and me, that's never going to happen. You saw what being in a relationship did to us. Hell, you tried to break us up! I was just feeling…" Robin frowns. What had she been feeling? Tired and emotional? A little low in self esteem? In need an ego boost?

Had she really intended to sleep with Barney?

"I'm still… really upset about Don," she says, hesitantly. It sounds plausible. It _is_ plausible. It's as good an explanation as any for all the random kissing she's been doing. "I mean, we only just broke up, and this time I know… Well, I don't know. That's the trouble. Breaking up with guys is always hard."

"But this is different!" Lily replies. "Barney loves you."

That stings.

"Oh no," Lily tries to correct herself hurriedly. "I don't mean that Don didn't love you. He must have loved you. Even though he took your job and dumped you… Okay, now's the time for shutting up. I'm shutting up now." Lily takes a long sip from her coffee cup, her eyes large and apologetic over the rim.

"Well yeah," Robin huffs. "You're just being creepy with all the shiny-happy over me and Barn. You know that's not… it's just _not_!" Robin sighs. She almost asks Lily not to tell anybody, then she catches herself. There's no way Lily will be able to keep something like this a secret from Marshall, and no way that it won't eventually get back to Ted somehow. Things have a way of getting back to Ted. So instead she says, "Look, this is no big deal. If you tell Marshall, I'm sure he'll back me up on this. And I'll talk to Ted tonight."

Lily shoots Robin a look and mumbles into her coffee. "It's not Ted you should be talking to. Don't kill the group, sweetie."

"Pft! It's fine," Robin forces herself to smile. "It's _Barney_. He kisses a dozen stupidly-drunk ridiculously-hot girls a night. He'll understand."

It's fine. It really is. She should thank him. He acted like a gentleman for once in his life.

But why is there still a stone in her chest? Why, when her stomach twists and her eyes prick with annoying tears of frustration, does she think of Barney's bright blue eyes and his boyish smile?

And why, when she thinks about Don, is there only a low, fluttering sensation of relief?

#~- #~a-

Later, when Robin gets home, Ted's on his knees rooting through her DVDs in her bedroom. She stands at the door, hands on hips, and glares at him.

"Oh, hey!" Ted says with a goofy grin. "Looking for Die Hard 4, figured you'd have it?" There's a couple more DVD cases by his feet and she's pretty sure there his.

"Uh, personal space, dude," she protests. "I don't go ransacking your room for… whatever stuff you've got in your drawers. Saying that, ew! Guy stuff!" She laughs.

"Sorry. Look, do you have it or not?"

Reluctantly she pushes him away and finds the movie for him, shoving the box into his hand. "Now scram, before I go get my gun."

He just grins. "Thanks!" He says, then scurries out of her room.

Robin sighs, getting back on to her feet before calling out, "Hey, are you going down to the bar?"

"Nope, got plans," He calls out.

So much for having a quiet talk and subtly steering the conversation to the non-issue kiss with Barney, which definitely doesn't make her feel a little wobbly to think about it.

Definitely not.

"Okay," she says, weakly. It'll be nice to have the apartment to herself for a change.

She might watch Die Hard: The original and the best. Even Barney would agree with that.

God, why does she keep thinking about him? That's just weird. She fishes out her cell phone and checks through her messages. And she tells herself she doesn't feel a pang of disappointment not to see anything from him.


	6. Chapter 6

"Ted," Barney says carefully, as Ted fiddles with the TV remote, shielding his eyes from the glare. It's late. Three movies through a four-movie marathon late.

"Yuh-huh?" Ted answers, managing somehow to get a picture of Will Smith which Barney is pretty sure is from Independence Day. He closes his eyes and counts to three.

Ted's pretty drunk, while he's stone-cold sober. And while drunk-Ted may be amusing to drunk-Barney, right now he just wants to feed Ted the remote.

"Ted… You and Robin." Barney continues. "Are you guys ever gonna, you know, _backslide_? Do you think?"

Seeming not to hear him, Ted continues to play with the buttons on the TV remote until Barney snatches it out of his hand. He wonders if he's like this when he's drunk? "Ted!" He sighs heavily, waving his fingers in front of Ted's eyes to get Ted to focus in on him. "Ted? Look at me!"

Ted giggles. "You keep moving."

Barney just stares at him. "C'mon man. You've not had that much to drink. Please."

"Okay, okay! What?" Ted's eyes twinkle.

"You and Robin. Do you think it's, like, completely over?"

Thing is, Barney can't get his head around the almost-kiss. It feels like a betrayal somehow, even though Barney knows he got no right to be jealous. Robin's not his. She's not anybody's. And yet…

This is what you get for being sober on a Friday night maybe: Too much thinking. No matter how sick the smell of alcohol makes him feel, he should just knock back a few shots. Hair of the dog…

And yet…

Barney's aware that, on some level, he's been running, running from _something_, ever since he and Robin split. Maybe it's time to face that something. Maybe it's time to give that something a name.

But Ted looks confused, like his question is out of the blue. "Over? Me and Robin? _Robin_? Oh man! Why are you even asking about this?"

That's a good question. Barney wonders why he even cares. If Robin and Ted decide to date again, how does that affect him? He's moved on, right?

The ache somewhere around his sternum tells him otherwise. Robin still makes him glow. He's been holding on to that, using it as a crutch.

"No reason," he attempts casual and his voice stays fairly even. There are some benefits in being clear-headed, he realizes.

"Y'know, I'm sick of it!" Ted lunges forward angrily and Barney tenses. "I'm sick of waiting for her. The 'one'. The damn 'one'." Barney exhales in relief and nods along with Ted's words. So much for the drunken attention span!

"Where is my 'one'?" Ted continues. "Why isn't she here? Why am I stuck with you on the 4th of July, drinking too much scotch? I don't even like this stuff. Is it bourbon? We should totally get some vodka! Vodka's cool. I met this Russian girl a few days ago at work, did I tell you? Grad student…"

Barney can't keep up with Ted's train of thought and tunes him out until he hears the word "boobs".

"… so I got her number." Ted finishes, settling back on the couch with a happy sigh.

All Barney can think is that he's been running since he and Robin broke up. All the heavy drinking and the women, the schemes that get crazier, the jokes, the need to be the centre of attention, it's all designed to stave off the inevitable.

Something alien still lives inside of him. That little flame of feeling that Robin awoke over two years ago still niggles and aches, flares and subsides. He's carried that little flame around inside him like it's so precious, because really, maybe it is precious. It's valuable to him, that ability to feel. And what he feels is _nice_, damn it.

He remembers what it was like not to feel anything nice at all. He remembers what it was like to go through life full of bile and driven by revenge; to constantly strive to be better than the other guy, to win, to be _awesome_. Robin gave him hope of something other than that. Even when Robin was with Don, he still had hope. He'd written Don off as her rebound guy, just another male Gail, except way more ridiculous.

But throughout everything, Barney told himself he'd never given up on Robin. He'd simply given her some space, that's all. She just wasn't ready for him yet, he had reasoned. Someday she'd be ready; someday they both would be. Just not yet. They still have something. Feelings. Neither of them are comfortable with the "L" word. But last night she'd kissed him, and boom... for a few minutes he'd been on fire. For a few minutes he'd allowed himself to buy into the fantasy.

But it was just a drunken kiss. It meant as much to Robin as her almost-kiss with Ted did.

And he can dress it up any way he likes but even he can smell the bullshit now. He's lied to so many people, but he's always tried to be honest with himself. He did give up on Robin. He just didn't want to face the truth that maybe they'd had their shot and blew it.

Now he feels that tiny flame of feeling flicker and dim, and he suddenly feels very empty inside.

Ted smiles at him drunkenly and he pats him on the shoulder. "That's great, Bro," Barney manages. "She sounds great. Boobs are what's important." But it sounds hollow, even to him.


	7. Chapter 7

_**#If anybody is still reading this story, it would be wonderful if you could tell me what you think! This is a work in progress, so it would mean a lot to get feedback. Thanks. **_

_Saturday_

"Dude, walk of shame!" Robin laughs, as Ted drags himself over to the sofa and collapses bleary-eyed. She holds out her hand for a fist bump but he shakes his head.

"Nope. Not even a little." He grimaces and kicks off his shoes, pulling his legs up onto the sofa. "Crashed at Barney's last night."

Robin's not sure she heard him right. "Barney's?"

"Yeah, we did that Independence Day movie marathon thing last night. I told you about that!" Grabbing a cushion, Ted buries his face in it and groans. "Momma! Whiskey is bad."

"You didn't tell me," Robin says lamely. "I would have been all over a movie marathon." Feeling a little weird - excluded, hurt, maybe even jealous - Robin heads for the kitchen. "You want some water, Teddy-boy?" She asks him with a brittle smile.

"Fleeble flob," Ted mumbles, and Robin considers bringing him a beer. But then she's never been great at passive-aggressive attacks; she prefers the overtly aggressive.

Thing is, she _is_ angry with Ted. She's been agonising over that kiss with Barney for a day now, acting like a total girl, and in the meantime Ted's been out at Barney's having fun. It's just insulting, somehow.

She's _Robin Scherbatsky_. She doesn't agonize over boys. She's never agonized over Barney. Oh sure, she acted up a little after the split. But there were unpredictable emotions at work. Maybe she'd even some self esteem issues left over from her crappy career choices. Maybe it was nothing to do with Barney at all. It was all easily explained away, in fact.

Yeah, all easily explained away as guilt, maybe.

The thing is, in her heart of hearts, Robin knew that getting into a relationship with Barney was like a kind of surgical strike on her fickle heart. She's known there was all this unresolved sexual tension between them. She'd known that he had all these confusing feelings. And she figured that if they got together, she could prove to him that they would make a horrible couple. He'd see they weren't compatible and that he'd realize she wasn't what he wanted.

Actually, that had worked pretty well.

Only afterwards, Robin realized that she hadn't escaped quite as unscathed as she'd hoped. She'd felt way more pain than she'd expected. And there was no reason! They're still friends, despite the random drunken kissing. Barney's okay now obviously.

"Ted," Robin says, heading over to the couch to hand him his water. "Barney _was_ okay last night, wasn't he?" Robin wishes her voice didn't sound so damn uncertain.

"What? Yeah, sure. Thanks." Ted reaches out and takes the water, gulping it down thirstily. "He said something about you. Can't remember much - Jeez that guy can drink!" Ted laughs and clutches his sides in pain. "Think he was just looking out for you. I don't know. Maybe he felt bad that we abandoned you on a Friday night. But hey, you're a pretty girl in New York. Bet you had a great time, huh?"

Robin nods, annoyed at the way that her heart skipped a beat when Ted said Barney talked about her. It's like there's an itch beneath her skin, like she's got some schoolgirl crush. But that's what you're supposed to feel _before_ a relationship, not when it's dead and buried. This isn't what you're supposed to feel for a friend.

This isn't something she's felt in a long time either, not even for Don. It's a weird tingle, like a Simon-tingle.

Crap.

#~- #~-

For Barney, waking up this morning was a novel experience. Sober and in his own bed - his own _empty_ bed - that was something he didn't particularly want to get used to. But when he'd really thought about it, and after he'd scraped Ted off the sofa and sent him packing, he'd had an attack of introspection. He'd spent a little time on his computer.

Now, back at the MacLaren's, he's sipping gin-less tonics and making notes on his iPhone. He looks up to see Marshall walk into the bar. "Where's Lily?" He asks Marshall, idly.

Marshall gives him a half-hug and flashes him a grin that's probably supposed to look innocent. But really, Marshall is the worst liar in the state. Possibly the country. You'd think that would make him a terrible lawyer, but weirdly it just gives him a unique selling point.

"Yeah," Marshall huffs uncomfortably. "Lily had to… go shopping. Yeah, that's it. Shopping. Very important shopping. So I thought I'd come see if you were here. So we could, you know, talk. Not talk about anything specific. Just talk about general things. Not that there are any general things to talk about! Oh I'll-have-a-beer," that last comment is a directed at Carl, who's standing behind the bar, grinning from ear to ear and cleaning a glass.

Barney tries to mentally unpick Marshall's rambling sentences. "So Lily wants you to talk to me about something?"

"No!" Marshall says, mock-offended, hand over heart. "She definitely didn't ask me to have a man-to-man talk with you about Robin." He winks solemnly.

"Okay," Barney shakes his head in bemusement. "I guess this must be about the other night. Robin told Lily she kissed me?" Damn it, Scherbatsky! That girl has some serious confessional issues. Why didn't she just become Catholic and work it all out on a priest like regular people?

"Robin kissed you?" Marshall at least tries to sound surprised.

Laughing, Barney slaps him on the back. "It's okay. I'm okay. It's probably the best thing that could have happened. I needed a wake up call. My mojo's been seriously off all year. And you know what? I think I just need a new challenge. I think it's time for me to spread myself a little more widely."

Marshall nods sceptically. "Dude, if you're gonna go for the five-way again-?"

"No," Barney interrupts him with a chuckle. "Although that would be awesome. Nope, nothing like that. I mean a real challenge. Something to shake me out of my comfort zone." He smiles, takes a sip from his drink and winks at somebody girl-shaped across the bar. "Marshall Eriksen, I'm about to embark on the legendary adventure to end all legendary adventures. I'm moving to- wait for it!"

He watches Marshall's expectant face and Barney's heart beats double-time, because if he says it out loud, the idea becomes real.

"- Washington DC," he says.


	8. Chapter 8

_**#Thank you so, so much for all the lovely reviews to part 7. You're all smashing! I'd love to hear what you think about this part.**_

Barney pushes the plate of nachos across the table towards Marshall. With a heavy sigh, the big guy takes a chip and pops it into his mouth, swirling a string of melted cheese around one finger. Barney never realized that anybody could chew balefully before.

"Better?" Barney asks, after half of the chips have been demolished.

Dabbing his lips with a napkin, Marshall nods. "So, Washington," he says with a sigh. "Why Washington?"

Barney smirks but doesn't answer. Marshall likes puzzles and this one isn't too hard to figure out.

"Oh, right," Marshall drawls, after a few seconds. "The _job_."

"Yeah, the _job_."

Barney could have hardly missed the job advertisments that have saturated all GNB office communications in recent weeks. The top brass call them "transfer opportunities" but basically they want to move some of their New York VPs into other cities where the recession has hit the company real hard. Trouble is, nobody in the Manhattan office wants to make the first move, no matter how many sweeteners they get in the package. One of the most high profile transfers is to the Washington office and it seems pretty clear that if nobody actually volunteers, someone will be pushed.

GNB don't mess around. Barney knows it can get pretty brutal in the boardroom. He came this close to losing his job before, after all.

"But I don't get it," Marshall says. "I mean, I know you're not exactly popular right now-"

"C'mon. Joe Donovan hates me," Barney interrupts, raising an eyebrow.

"Well maybe. But _Washington_? And that job sounds so sketchy." Marshall tries to out-stare him across the table but blinks first and looks away. "Admittedly, no more sketchy than what you currently do."

"Please!" Barney scoffs. "And it's a six month trial. I can see how I like it, and I've got a safety net if I need it. As if I need it. They should thank me for increasing Washington's awesome factor."

"Still, six months?" Marshall flashes him that worried-papa look. "Barney, you're a New Yorker. You've practically got the city in your blood. Your Mom's here. All your friends are here." Marshall pauses to take a swig of beer. "Robin's here."

Barney mutters a curse under his breath. "Low blow, dude."

"Look, I know how you still feel about her, man," Marshall says with a sad smile. "That kind of ache doesn't go away. And with Don out of the picture..?"

Barney shakes his head and slams his tumbler on the table. "No! If anything, Robin's just one more reason for me to go." He knows he's right. It really is time for a change. And he's got some money squirreled away so he can set himself up with a nice apartment. It'll be sweet. He just needs to keep psyching himself into this. And for that, he really needs Marshall's support.

Marshall studies him for a moment, then nods. "You know what, man? I'm not going to try and argue you out of this. I actually think it'll be a good move for you. But there is one thing I do want to know."

"What's that?"

"When are you going to tell Robin and Ted?"

When Robin catches a glimpse of Barney standing at the Bar, she feels that weird spiral-feeling again, that heady mixture of revertigo and longing. MacLaren's is jam packed tonight. Their usual booth is full of a group of hipsters that make Robin feel old, and Doug's not around to intimidate the crowd out of their spot. So she heads in the general direction of Marshall's head, clearly visible across the bar. It's just lucky that her friend is so tall.

"Can we get out of here?" She says, tugging Barney on the arm. "It's horrible in here."

Later, she realizes those are the first words she's said to him since the kiss. Maybe in retrospect they weren't the most tactful she could come up with.

Barney's eyes narrow momentarily, but then his expression softens so quickly that she tells herself she imagined his look of annoyance. "Cool you're boots, Scherbatsky. We're waiting for Lily."

"Where's Ted?" Robin asks, standing on tiptoes and trying to spot her roomie.

"He's out on a date with a grad student," Marshall smirks. "So wrong."

Robin laughs a dirty laugh. "I thought that wasn't allowed?"

"When has that ever stopped Ted?" Barney quips.

They fist bump. Everything seems normal. Everything _is_ normal. Except that Robin doesn't feel normal. Her laughter is too loud and when she reaches for her drink, she knocks Barney's clean off the bar, smashing his glass on the floor and splattering his suit pants with Gin and tonic.

"Damn, wow, I'm so sorry!" Robin bends down to gather the glass shards off the floor before somebody hurts themselves, but she's pushed out of the way by Wendy, who has a washcloth and a look of amused distain.

Damn it! In trying not to over-react to Barney, Robin feels like she's turned into Miss Klutz from Klutzville. Luckily for her, Lily chooses that moment to walk into the bar. Robin pushes a stack of napkins into Barney's hands and rushes over to greet her, frantically steering her friend towards the bathroom.

"I need to talk to you," Robin hisses, practically dragging Lily into the restroom with her.

Lily looks worried. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong," Robin says, and she begins to pace up and down in front of the stalls. "Nothing's wrong exactly. I just need to get all this straight in my head."

"All _what_ straight in your head?"

"Lily. I think I'm going insane and you're the only one who can help." Robin feels on the verge of tears, which is utterly ridiculous! Lily's looking at her with this odd expression and it just makes everything worse. "It's complicated," she says with ragged exasperation. "It's about Barney."

She tries to ignore Lily's hopeful grin.


	9. Chapter 9

_**#Thanks once again to you gorgeous people who have left reviews for part 8. If anyone reads this part, please let me know what you think! You'll have my very great thanks. **_

Lily grins hugely. "You're in love with him, aren't you?"

Robin shakes her head, a tear dislodging and running down her cheek. "Maybe. No! Yes... I don't know."

"Yes, those are some of the options." Lily roots around in her purse and pushes a tissue into Robin's hand, which makes her feel even more like a big kid than she did already.

More than anything, Robin wishes she could go back a year and stop herself getting mixed up with Barney in the first place. Yes, he'd told her that loved her. Yes, she'd had some feelings for him. But if only she'd been that little bit stronger then she wouldn't be in this mess now. She wouldn't have gotten herself hurt, or hurt him in return. Or maybe if she'd have been more damn self-aware and given herself a little time, she might not have let her friends influence her so much.

A perfect example of that is standing beside her, looking at her with those big, worried eyes. Oh Lily... Robin wonders why she's never even stopped before to analyse why she relies so heavily on Lily's advice? She'd let herself get so wrapped up in Don, as if deliberately trying not to see that it was purely a physical attraction. She'd told herself that this was going to be a grown up relationship, in a way that what she had with Barney clearly wasn't. After all, Don was a grown up, he'd proved he could commit. He'd been married before. He was nothing like Barney.

Trouble is, Don was nothing like her, either.

"Barney is Peter Pan," Robin stammers. "And I'm Wendy. And you know what happens to Wendy when Peter flies off and leaves her? She becomes a grown up. And if Wendy even tries to keep Peter with her, all she ends up doing is turn him into a pirate!" Robin's really crying now, tears streaming down her cheeks, her voice hitching around each sob.

"Wow, you're really stretching that metaphor," Lily replies, looking extremely dubious and reaching out to take hold of Robin's hand, giving it a little squeeze. "Besides, didn't Barney actually make kind of a great boyfriend?"

"At first, sure," Robin says, taking a deep breath and staring into the mirror, dabbing her cheeks and trying to pull herself together. "But then we just wore each other down. I don't even know what happened. None of it made any sense. We were supposed to be awesome! But it was like he didn't know how to commit. And in trying to do that, he turned himself into someone that I didn't even recognise. _I _did that to him, Lily. And I couldn't stand it."

"So it's not that you don't love each other, or even that you couldn't be a couple. It's just the way you went about it that's the problem." Lily tilts her head and gives Robin a sly look.

Is that it? Is it that simple? Or is it just that, deep down, Robin still doesn't believe Barney can commit? And honestly, could anyone blame her? It's _Barney_. Barney doesn't do serious. Just look at how he's thrown himself back into the dating game since they split, and how much he's been enjoying getting his life back.

"Robin?" Lily asks tentatively.

Robin shakes her head. "I think I just really need to talk to Barney."

Lily nods. "Girlfriend, you really do."

#~- #~-

It's humid outside the bar. Robin spots him on the street corner, a silhouette against the street lights. As a car drives past, she can see him light a cigarette, hands cupped around the end to shield it from the summer breeze.

"Can I bum a smoke?" She says, her voice sounding hoarse. She's glad it's dark enough that he won't see her puffy cheeks, her red eyes.

"Sure." He hands over the packet and the lighter and she feels a flutter of disappointment. She doesn't know what she expected. Something from a black and white movie maybe, where the guy lights the girl's cigarette and they lock gazes and come to some realisation? Or at least end up in bed.

Boy, she's confused.

"Didn't you give this up?" She comments, handing him back the packet. He shrugs and she says, "It's a bad habit."

"One of the many I can't seem to shake," he replies, as the smoke curls around his lips. "I'll go for a run tomorrow morning. Make up for it."

"Can I come?" Robin blurts, before she can censor herself. "I mean, I keep planning to get in shape, but it never seems to work out." She grins nervously. It's like she's asked him out on a date, like there's some weird social agreement between them that she's suddenly broken. It feels like so much rides on his reply.

But he just looks away and blows a perfect smoke ring before drawling "Are you sure? I get up pretty early."

Robin laughs. "Are you kidding? I'm still on COGUNY time."

"_Coguny_? Really? Is that what you call your show? So lame." His eyes twinkle with amusement. Or is it the street lights?

She gives him a look. "It's what my fans call it."

"The same fans that started the drinking game?"

Rolling her eyes, Robin takes a drag from her cigarette. Damn him, always challenging her and never giving an inch. Maybe they're just too adversarial to make it. Her and him, it would be such a bad idea.

So why does a shiver shoot through her gut when he says, "Sure you can come if you want to. You might be the only person I know who can keep up with my awesomeness."

It leaves her speechless, bathing in a kind of high. It's takes her right back to that first time they hung out, so many years ago now. It makes her feel weirdly special. A member of that exclusive club again. They're Barney-and-Robin again.

They smoke in silence for a while, but it's oddly comfortable.

"Scherbatsky?" Barney says, after he lets his cigarette fall to the pavement and burn out.

"Yep?" She looks up. There's something behind his eyes, something in the way his lips thin, like he wants to admit something but he's not quite brave enough. For once, she just wants him to just say it, because thist time she might be ready to hear him out.

For once she feels that maybe he won't scare her off if he tells her that he's in love with her.

But instead he shakes his head with a small smile and says "I gotta go. See you, six a.m. sharp? Be there or be square, Robin!"

And with that, he walks off into the night, leaving her cursing that she never got a chance to talk to him about their kiss, or how confused she's been since. He leaves her feeling this weird frustration at her continuing failure to connect to him, and she has this odd feeling in her gut. She's worried that she doesn't have that many more chances to do it.


	10. Chapter 10

_#Sunday_

There's dew on the grass as Robin bends to re-tie her sneakers. Central Park glitters. And it's totally quiet except for the birdsong and the occasional fellow jogger. The hoards of runners, cyclists and yoga freaks that pepper the park during the week are absent, probably away for the weekend and taking advantage of the glorious weather to escape from the city. Later, families that will flock here for their lazy Sunday entertainment, but right now there's a weird feeling of solitude and space under the clear blue sky. Robin can see why Barney would get up so early to experience it.

"C'mon dude!" Barney shouts over his shoulder, as they set off again. Their footfalls make a muffled thump-thump along the asphalt path that splits the greenery. Barney sets a brisk pace, but Robin gets the feeling he's holding back for her. After the first five minutes her muscles are protest a little, just until the zing of adrenalin kicks in. Then her lungs begin to working steadily, drawing in the cool, sweet morning air in deep, even breaths.

When she closes her eyes, Robin feels like she's flying. Only once does she look over at Barney and it breaks her concentration, jarring her rudely out of that Zen feeling of calm.

Barney… Everything about him is hypnotic. From the way his muscles move under his skin through the lean line of his body, to the way his thigh and calves tense and relax as he shifts his weight from foot to foot. The sheer physicality of him is captivating. It takes her back to the whirlwind of last summer, when his body was everything to her, in all its secret, animal passion.

It takes her back to when he was hers, and hers alone.

Distracted, Robin almost trips on a tree-root as they cross the grass to another path. Rather than risk breaking an ankle, Robin determinedly fixes her gaze forward for the rest of their run, and wishes the horse-and-buggy carts were out this early. Maybe then she could steal a horse's blinkers and stop herself ogling her ex-boyfriend.

#~- #~-

Barney keeps meaning to tell her.

After all, it's not as if the Washington job is a secret. Twice now he's almost said it, but the words get stuck in his throat each time. He tells himself that he just wants to break it to her casually, because it's no big deal. He doesn't want to make this a _thing_. Then they can laugh about it, and she'll smile and not mind and they'll promise to keep in touch.

Like Bros do.

But he can't tell her; at least not yet. She keeps… confusing him. Like last night, when she came to find him and just stood there smoking and not talking. It's amazing how sometimes you know when someone is very definitely not talking. Not talking, and looking breathtakingly beautiful, with her hair all mussed and her makeup smudged. Barney even caught himself staring at her like a lovesick teenager.

He's not lovesick. He's just sick of love, that's all, and he knows it's time to move on.

And yet, there's no other girl who can light him up in that painful way that Robin does. That's why he agreed to let her come running with him today. That's why, when he sees that she was wearing those ridiculously short pants and that obscenely tiny top, he doesn't comment on the excess of breast on display, but merely makes the decision to stop by his church on the way back to his place.

"Barney, I'm not exactly dressed for this!" She hisses, as he lights a candle and slips into a pew at the back of the church. Shooting him a glare, she still looks gorgeous. Maybe on some level he loves that he can still make her this angry after everything that's happened between them. He grins at her and she silently thumps him in the arm.

This close, he can hear her ragged breathing, and feel the warmth of her bare arm pressed against his. It quickly lulls him. There's a security, knowing that he's allowed to be this close to her and not have it be weird. It feels safe, knowing that this doesn't have to mean anything.

Suddenly, Barney's phone buzzes and they both feel it where it's strapped to his waist. It breaks the spell and Robin waggles her eyebrows. It's all either of them can do to suppress their giggles as several people in the congregation turn to look at them.

He wonders if she can feel the tension thrum through him as he reads the message on his phone. It's from Joe Donovan calling him into work and it can only be about the Washington job because you can never drag Joe away from the golf course on Sunday in normal circumstances.

The more he thinks about it, the more he feels too nervy to sit still, so they duck out of church before the service ends and walk the two blocks to his apartment.

"Can I take a shower at your place before I head home?" Robin asks, following him inside.

It's a weird question. It feels like she's crossing a line. "You don't have your clothes here any more, remember?" Barney snaps back, archly. It's unfair of him to take his irritability out on her, he knows, but she's in his way right now.

"What, and you can't lend me a t-shirt?" She asks, tossing her hair.

"Whatever," he grumbles. "Me first." He should tell her about Washington. He should damn well tell her. But he can't.

He misses the disappointed look on her face as he strips off his sweat pants and heads for the bathroom. He has a quick, scalding shower, shaves, and dresses mechanically. In fact, he almost forgets Robin's still there until he sees her lying on his bed staring listlessly at the ceiling.

The sight of her pulls him up short.

"Where are you going, all dressed up on a Sunday?" She asks him, cocking her head to one side. "I thought you were coming to Lily and Marshall's Fourth of July thing? Lily's been planning that meal for weeks. She's going to get super intense if you don't make it."

He lifts a finger and snorts. "First, I always look this slick. Just because it's the weekend, that's no excuse to let standards slip. Second, I'll swing by the party later, but I have to take care of something at work. So you have your shower, and I'll meet you there? Okay? Okay."

Robin looks like she wants to say something but he grabs his keys and his wallet and heads quickly out the door. The words lodge in his throat again. Washington. This is basically a job interview for Washington. Next week he could be packing up and heading out of New York, maybe for good.

He tells himself that he's been holding back in telling everyone until it's definite. But deep in his gut he knows he's made up his mind to take the job. He's just putting off the inevitable.

It makes him feel like a coward.


	11. Chapter 11

Robin never thought she'd say it but, jeez! What does it take to seduce Barney Stinson?

Rolling onto her belly, she slides one hand back across the bed until her fingers are buried in the soft silk of his comforter. Then she inhales a deep lungful of his scent - that heady combination of spice and musk and maleness that was uniquely Barney. God, he always smells so _good_. Breathing out through her mouth, she sucks in another lungful, her lips pressed against the pillow. This is where he lies, where he sleeps, where he makes love…

There's a twisting sensation in her gut.

Damn him! She'd stripped practically down to her underwear for him and followed him up into his apartment. What does he want? A written request? Some kind of pre-sexual agreement?

They'd both been sweat-slick and tuckered out after their run. Exactly how had they not ended up in bed?

Exhaling again with frustration, Robin lets her limbs go limp, relaxing every aching muscle one by one until her thoughts begin to drift. She feels so tired after that run, and it's so warm and comfortable and familiar here in Barney's bedroom. She can feel her body slowly sinking into the bedding, like her skeleton is made of metal, weighing her down. What she should be doing is taking that shower. She probably looks disgusting. But wow, it's so, so comfy here.

Any minute now, she'll get up.

Robin turns her head to one side and sighs, then buries her nose back into the pillow. When she closes her eyes, she can almost imagine he's here with her, his long, lean body sprawled only inches away from hers. She wants him to be here, to be hers, but it's all too easy to imagine the use this bed's been put to since she and Barney ended their relationship. It's all too easy to imagine him with other women.

Taking another breath, it occurs to Robin that she can't smell them, these other women. There is no cheap perfume or smudge of lipstick from his Saturday night conquest. There's only Barney.

Smiling sleepily, Robin tugs the comforter and wraps it around her body.

Yep, any minute now, she'll get up. Five minutes. She'll just take five minutes to recuperate from all that exercise.

Maybe ten.

#~~ #~~

"Where the hell have you been?" Marshall hisses when Barney finally arrives at the Dowisetrepla apartment.

"Uh, I've been working, dude!" Barney protests. "Didn't Robin tell you?"

Marshall glares at him. "Robin's not here. Robin's not here and Lily's going crazy! You don't know how much effort my wonderful wife has made with this meal?"

Barney shakes his head, surveying the carnage of the kitchen, and Ted and Lily sitting dolefully on the couch. "Oh, I think I can guess," he sighs. "So where's Robin?"

Ted looks up and there's something unreadable in his expression. "Well, she's not here, is she? But I guess we should get used to people not being here."

Oh. So that's the way it's going to be? Ted's practically radiating passive-aggressive rage.

"We've tried calling her," Marshall explains. "We've left a hundred messages. She's off the grid."

There's a tremor in Barney's chest which could be concern. But it's difficult to fathom when Ted's seriously trying to replicate Lily's death-stare. Barney fishes out his iPhone, holding it up in front of him like a shield. There are ten frantic text messages, all from Marshall. "Nope, nothing from Robin. Although she was okay when I left her back at my place this morning. Want me to call her?"

There's a weird silence from the others, accompanied by a sick feeling in the pit of Barney's stomach as he realizes exactly how incriminating that sounds. He opens his mouth and closes it again. Crap, he really could have been a lot more subtle. He's doing this all wrong. "No, I mean-"

"When were you going to tell us?" Ted says, his voice flat and serious.

"I didn't sleep with Robin!" Barney protests. "We went for a run, then I got called into work. She wanted to take a shower at my place." Even to him it sounds like a lie. Barney knows they have no reason to believe him and it's way more plausible that he and Robin had sex, and she got pissed at him and is sulking somewhere. It's so plausible, in fact, that he almost believes it himself. And he's so focused on how weird that makes him feel, that Ted's next words come out of left field.

"Not about Robin," Ted says. "About Washington. When were you going to tell us that you were running out on us, Barney? When were you going to tell us that you were leaving?"

All the blood drains from Barney's face.

Yep, he's doing this so wrong.


	12. Chapter 12

Barney's mind races.

He's a guy who has a lot of secrets. There are a lot of things that he's kept from his friends over the years. But he's never deliberately hurt them and the pain and betrayal in Ted's eyes is almost too much to bear. However, Barney's also a guy who's been caught red-handed enough times to know that a good defence is always, always offence.

He grins. "Oh wow, Marshall. You bought that? That was a _play_, dude. I was just practicing some line I was going to use on that brunette chick at the bar."

"So you're not going to Washington?" Marshall asks, looking more hurt than relieved.

"Nope," he says, leaning back casually against the door. He finds himself studying Marshall, wondering how the big guy could possibly believe that telling Ted prematurely like this would help anybody. But then again, maybe Marshall thought he might _never_ tell them. Maybe Marshall thought that just one day they'd all come looking for him and all they'd find would be an empty apartment. That's if any of them came looking for him at all...

Wow, that's a gloomy thought. Barney Stinson doesn't do gloomy thoughts. He shakes himself and he turns his grin up a notch.

"You son of a bitch," Lily grumbles under her breath., but she shakes her head and gives Marshall a squeeze as her husband collapses down on the couch beside her.

"Yeah, not cool," Marshall agrees. "But anyway, what are you guys all doing tonight? We figured you be…"

Barney zones out on him because Ted still hasn't said anything. He tries not to look at Ted, tries not to notice the glowering expression in Ted's dark eyes, but it's like an itch. His hindbrain, the bit that lies and gets caught and simply makes up a bigger lie, that bit begins to wiggle.

"I call bullshit," Ted says quietly, stopping Marshall mid-flow. "You're so full of it, Barney. So, you're just going to ditch us?" He says, directing the venomous words at Barney. "Cut us out of your life? For what? A promotion?"

"Bro, it's not like that. Marshall-" Barney tries to interject, but Ted cuts him off.

"Marshall told us the truth!" Ted snaps. "Which is more than you ever tell us, it seems."

This is horrible. This whole thing is horrible. Ted doesn't understand his reasons. They are carefully thought out reasons. This is nothing to do with ditching Ted and Marshall and Lily. It's… _Robin_. It's always about Robin. But is running away from Robin any better than running from the rest of them? From the way Ted's looking at him Barney knows that in trying to get over Robin, he's turned his back on his best friend.

"I'm not..." Barney says. "I'm- It's not like that. You know that. You're like my family!" He gives Ted a pleading look.

"Family?" Ted spits. "You mean, hiding everything that's awkward or painful from everyone, like _my_ Mom and Dad? Or maybe you mean continually betraying everyone you love, like _Lily's_ Dad?" Ted gets to his feet, narrowing his eyes. "Or maybe, just maybe, you mean _abandoning the people who love you_, like _your_ Dad?"

There's a gasp from Lily as Ted walks right up to Barney until they are nose to nose. Barney's mouth goes dry and he shrinks beneath such close scrutiny.

"You're moving to Washington and you didn't tell me?" Ted says. There's pain, real pain in the words. "Exactly how long have you been planning this?"

Barney shakes his head. "Today," he says desperately. "I only found out _today_ that it's even possible. And it's not like I want to leave you guys but-" He swallows, and looks up, and composes himself. "But my life is going nowhere here. You know that's true. I need something new. It's only for six months, Bro. It's not forever."

Lily bites her lip, like she's going to say something but changes her mind.

"That's just another line," Ted says. "You're so full of it."

"No!" Marshall shouts.

They all start as Marshall gets to his feet. "No!" The big man repeats again, louder, stronger. "Ted, will you get your head out of your ass? Do you think this is easy for Barney?"

Barney takes the cue. "No. No, it isn't easy. I'll miss you guys like crazy, you know I will. I'm terrified of this. But if I'm gonna do it, it's got to be now, before I lose my nerve."

"You can't leave," Lily says, tears in her eyes.

Barney gulps. "I don't want to." It's not entirely true. "Look, Washington isn't even that far away. I can come visit. Weekends? You know? And there's phones and the internet."

"It's not the same," Lily stands up and walks over to him, her bottom lip quivering. Then she gives him a fierce hug.

"It wasn't a secret," Barney says to Ted, over her shoulder. "Please, dude. I'm sorry."

"When are you leaving?" Ted asks him flatly.

"Thursday."

Lily pulls away and squeezes his arm, then nods at Ted to stand up. "I can't say that I agree with this," she says quietly. "But I'm a firm believer of letting kids make their own mistakes. Just remember, Barney Stinson, that when you fall and skin your knee we'll still be here to patch you up and make you feel better?"

He gives her a lopsided grin as Marshall joins them. "You told Robin yet?"

Barney shakes his head. "No. Like I said. I just heard it was definite."

"Oh man," Ted exhales a frustrated breath.

Lily frowns. "Yeah. Really yeah."

Barney shrugs. "It's Robin. She's got more reason to want me to leave than any of you. She'll be fine."

It's comes as a big surprise to him that Lily and Marshall laugh at that. Even Ted cracks a smile.

"Oh, you poor deluded boy," Lily says.


	13. Chapter 13

There's an annoying, jangling, ringing sound coming from somewhere far away. Robin snuffles into the sheets and turns over, her sluggish brain registering the sound but not wanting to do anything about it. Eventually she manages to open one eye, groaning as the bedroom, brightly-lit by the late afternoon sun, comes into focus.

As does the tall, dark shape standing at the edge of the bed. Robin grunts out a "Whu-?".

"I said, did you have a good nap?"

Barney's standing there, all eyes and teeth and irritating alertness. Robin manages, by Herculean effort, to open her other eye and prop herself up on her elbows.

"Wha' time s'it?" She yawns, feeling the mattress dip as he sits down. She really thinks he should wipe that look off his face. It must ache from all that grinning.

"Time you got up?" Barney replies, pulling the sheet off her shoulder. "Damn! Thought you were naked!"

"I _stink_," Robin protests. "Didn't even shower. Must have been more tired than I thought." The last word is muffled by an even bigger yawn.

"You smell fine," Barney says in a quiet voice, then more loudly, "C'mon, let's get you in the shower?" He wrestles the sheets from her clenched fists.

"Why?" She whines. "Can't I just stay here and moulder?"

He huffs out a breath. "Well, firstly you already missed Lily's dinner."

_Oh god_, Robin squints a look at her watch. Crap, she has! Lily's going to be so mad! Robin looks up at him, but his eyes are full of warmth and laughter. If she was in trouble, she'd see it in the damn grinning grin of his. Instead, he catches her off-guard by grabbing her hand, his fingers catching her wrist lightly, caressing the skin. Then he moves his hands very gradually, until their palms meet and they lace fingers. It feels weirdly intimate. As if sensing this, he pulls away, leaving her aching for his gentle touch.

"And secondly," Barney continues gruffly, "Ted wants us to go up to his lame roof-party to watch the fireworks." He glances over his shoulder and tuts. "Lame."

Robin's just about to reach out and grab his tie, pull Barney down on top of her and show him exactly why Ted's rooftop is the last place she wants to be, when she hears another voice.

"It's not lame, dumbass! It's traditional! We always do it." Ted grins, walking into Barney's bedroom. He looks down at the two of them, nonplussed. "And besides," he continues, "It's an awesome place to watch all the fireworks. Wow, Robin - you'd better get changed. The party starts in a half hour."

His back to Ted, Barney rolls his eyes and gives Robin a "what can you do?" expression.

Robin silently curses Ted to hell.

_#~ o_

It's cooler up on the roof of Ted's building than it is down on the sidewalk. A breeze blows off the Hudson, laced with the scent of tar, petroleum and something metallic. Barney draws in a breath and holds the air in his lungs.

His fingers itch for a cigarette, but he resists the urge. Maybe a cigar, maybe later. For now he just stands and watches Robin and Ted as they Ohh and Ahh over the starburst explosions of colour against the indigo sky. Sipping his drink, he tries to feel it - the patriotism or whatever he's supposed to be experiencing right now. But Lily's words keeps coming back to him.

_"Oh, you poor deluded boy."_

Ted hasn't left his side, like he's afraid that if he lets him out of his sight, Barney's going to run off to Washington and never be seen again. And as much as Barney's pretty sure that this move is the right thing to do, he can't help but feel the prickle of guilt that comes with the realization of just how much this is hurting Ted.

In a way, it's almost flattering.

There's been this thing, in the back of his mind, for two years now. For Barney, there's been this fear that at any moment Ted could take his friendship away. No matter what they go through, no matter how many life-changing moments or crises they share, there's always that fear that, deep down, Ted's just waiting to dump him again.

And reflecting on that, Barney wonders if maybe he's been projecting those same fears onto Robin too.

Because everybody leaves. Everybody gets bored with you eventually.

Or something.

Barney shakes himself. It's not like that. Ted wants him to stay and he's not going to let this go. Ted says he'll miss him. Marshall was practically in tears. It's Independence Day and he's reclaiming his independence, that's all.

_"Oh, you poor deluded boy."_

Lily had told him that Robin still has feelings for him. _Robin_… Robin has _feelings_ for him..? Good feelings? Bad feelings? Lily had said that she didn't even think it was that much of a secret, since Robin hadn't made her mind about it herself, so she didn't feel bad for telling. Besides, it was obvious to any person who had half a brain. And since Barney was moving away, if the two of them were going to get it together, like, ever, they really didn't have much time. Lily had punctuated all this with a pointed look, the same one she'd worn when trying to get them to define their relationship last summer.

"Why now?" Barney mutters under his breath. "Why is Robin doing this to me _now_?"

He starts as he feels a hand on his shoulder and he turns around.

"Hey, champ." Robin says, looking gorgeous in a strapless satin dress, silhouetted against the silver sparkles of light above the rooftops of Manhattan. Smiling, she sips her drink and his eyes are drawn to her lips. Barney knows, intellectually, that the human brain is hard-wired for the pattern recognition specific to faces; that he's programmed to notice her wide eyes, the snub upturn of her nose, her full mouth. But knowing that and believing it are two different things, because when he sees Robin, in that instant he first lays eyes on her, something inside him always freezes, tenses, and leaps. Something inside him sings.

With a half-smile, he wonders what's going through her head right now. The way her fingers tighten around the stem of her wine glass makes him suddenly nervous. She takes a breath, when she opens her mouth to speak he interrupts her.

"Yeah, I know. We need to talk."


	14. Chapter 14

They're back in Robin's bedroom, the scene of so many confrontations, so many kisses, so many broken promises. Through the window, the endless myriad of tiny, glittering explosions rage on, silently into the night.

Robin draws in a breath, but it feels like the oxygen doesn't reach her lungs.

"I'm leaving," he says. "A new job in Washington."

Not like this, she silently begs him. Don't tell me like this. Not with the fireworks and the heat trapped in her room, and him standing tall and lean and oddly distant. It breaks her heart for him to tell her like this.

When he tells her, it should be in the park, on a sunny day, where she can shed a tear and laughingly blame the wind, and then take his hand and run through the sheep meadow and pretend tomorrow will never come.

When he tells her, it should be in Coney Island, with them stuck half way around a Ferris wheel, the breeze whipping her hair across her cheeks, his hands covering hers and warming her.

Or he should tell her in the dead of winter, where she can wrap a scarf around her like some old woman in a Russian novel, turning her face into the slate grey sky and mourning him like a little death, not just a tawdry relocation a couple of hundred miles up the coast.

"I think I'm in love with you," she says, a little pathetically, and he nods sagely, like he already knows, like her heart is a fluttering bird he's taken pity on, and he takes her into his arms.

Robin finds that she can't cry, not one single tear. This is too big for tears. The emotion settles in her chest, confusing her and pulling her apart. Light-headed, weak-kneed, she clings to him. And then through their embrace something shifts, some alignment of chest and hips and shoulders, until suddenly his mouth is covering hers and they're kissing, falling into each other with the familiarity that only exes know.

It's not like Robin hasn't been here before.

But she's never been so scared, felt so utterly bereft. She's never thought she'd be the one to be left behind.

His hand is on her back, Robin can feel every long finger splayed across her ribs, behind her heart. She closes her eyes and lets it happen, lets him ignite the passion in her, that thing that transcends a hundred tiny squabbles and has always calmed her fears.

Would they ever have had a chance, she wonders? Between his kisses, with his lips still brushing hers, she wants to ask him not to leave. He doesn't have to stay for her, just so long as he stays. But she's Robin Scherbatsky and she's never begged a man for anything before.

He feels her tense, so he pushes her back towards the bed and they sink slowly down, bodies pressed together in quiet desperation.

_#~o_

Barney stares into the darkness. He's wide awake, and from the sound of Robin's steady breathing, she is too. This moment is important, he knows that. He suspects that she's not ready, maybe neither of them are ready, to get back into a relationship. So he decides to test the waters.

"So how does this go?" He asks softly. "It doesn't change anything, right? I mean, someday you'll be the one leaving, travelling the world as Miss international correspondent of awesome."

"Right on," she says, throatily.

Part of him winces in disappointment. The trouble is, Robin's more of a Bro than he'll ever be. She's endlessly independent and understands that need for independence in others. And she knows her own mind better than he ever will. Hell, she knows _his_ mind better than he does. He's not exactly making excuses, but when she said that she loved him, what did she mean? She's still in rebound mode, still hurt from her experience with Don. She deserves better than that. In fact, Robin Scherbatsky deserves better than him.

And yet...

"You know-" he says, tentatively. "You know I love you, right?"

Robin nuzzles his ear. "I know. Idiot. But love doesn't solve anything. Despite what-"

"-Ted thinks." He finishes her sentence and it makes her laugh. He loves her laugh. Robin Scherbatsky's laugh is full and honest and he can still feel it through her rid-cage long after the sound has faded. She has a wonderful laugh.

Her lips curve against his skin, as her fingers spider-crawl across his chest. "Still, we've got a few days," she whispers, and he can't help but grin.

"Make the most of it?" He asks, already turning over on to his side to face her.

"It's what we do," she answers him.

There's a tightening across his chest when he kisses her, but he's gotten used to that. The pain of covering up what he really feels is so familiar, it feels like an old friend.

_#~o_

"You're still leaving?"

Ted looks kind of horrified. Barney gets it, he really does. He knows how Ted views the world through big, romantic gestures. Been there, done that, grown his hair long. But that's not the way the world works, and heaven forbid any woman who doesn't stand up to Ted's ridiculous notions. As if any woman could.

What Ted doesn't understand, what Barney implicitly understands, is that you don't fall in love with a menu of perfect traits. You fall in love with someone who's got at least one aspect of their personality that you actively hate. That's the whole point.

That's where the passion lies.

So right now he could come up with some big story to satisfy Ted's need for drama, but his best friend deserves more than that. Sighing wearily, he says simply, "Yep. Robin's cool with it, too. She gets it."

Ted just shakes his head sternly, as if they're a couple of children he wants to reprimand. And times like this, he's such a Dad. "Dude! You can't leave. Barney, you're a New Yorker."

"Yeah, Bro. That's what Marshall said. Maybe I can be a Washington-orker?"

"Actually it's Washingtonian," Ted corrects him. "See, even the word sounds douchey."

Barney chuckles. "Yeah it does." They fist-bump absently. "It's not forever dude," he continues.

"But how do you know that?"

Barney notices the way Ted's shoulders slump, the way he watches the sky in despair, no longer seeing those last few lone fireworks.

"How can you love her, and walk away from her?" Ted demands to know. "How can you walk away from _us_?"

It hurts. It hurts to hear those words. If this was a movie of his life, Barney would do the heroic thing. He'd stay for them out of some kind of misplaced loyalty, changing his mind at the eleventh hour. But this is real life, and nothing is black and white.

"Not easily. But I think it's what she wants, deep down." He sighs. "I think it's for the best."

"You'll call, though?" Ted asks. "I mean, it'll be weird without you."

"I'll update my blog every day?" He salutes Ted with his glass and takes a sip. He knows that his adventures won't be quite so legendary without Ted there to share them. "And maybe call you at the bar. I can wingman for you, long distance?"

Ted can't help but chuckle. "Good enough, I guess," he says, but the laughter doesn't reach his eyes.


	15. Chapter 15

**_Thursday_**

How did this happen?

Somehow, they went from incredible, mind-blowing sex, to Barney telling her that he's still going to Washington. He's still leaving. And Robin's words of protest died in her throat. His argument, that she'd leave New York herself without a second thought, resonated too deeply inside of her.

As ever, Barney Stinson tilted her world and now he's just going to walk away from the mess he's caused, probably surround himself with bimbos and drown his unhappiness with corporate intrigue and booze. Real healthy.

Of course, Robin knows what it is that he wants from her. In Barney's ideal world, they'd remain forever friends, with her his wingwoman-with-benefits, and he her clown, entertaining her and occasionally romancing her. Just so long as she doesn't want anything more from him.

And that would be okay if she didn't want anything more. But damn it, he's off to live in Neverland, and she can't follow him there.

Or can she? Would she really follow Barney Stinson to Washington? That's the test isn't it? And how hard can it be to get a job in Washington, where there are more reporters per square mile than there are cell phones? And really, where exactly is her career going in New York?

Yeah, she'll miss Ted and Marshal, and especially Lily, but it's not so far away. Not really.

Robin turns over in bed and kisses his shoulder. The idea of New York without him is painful. Even when they split, she was somehow comforted by the fact that he was close by. With Barney gone, she knows that she'll feel like her legs have been kicked out from underneath her.

Because he's always been here to save her, to save them all. He's been their safety net for years, and none of them realized. Just how much do they all owe to Barney? He's got the biggest heart of any guy she's ever known, although she's never told him that.

He's leaving today. If she doesn't do something soon, she might never get to tell him.

Barney stirs, sleepily aware of her scrutiny, as Robin slides out of bed and sits down at his desk. Opening up his laptop, she finally feels ready to take control instead of just letting things happen to her. Her heart races, her senses zing with adrenalin, and for the first time in months, she feels truly alive.

**#~o**

"Relax, sweetie, she'll be here."

Lily places her hand gently on Barney's shoulder and for once he doesn't shrug it off. They all know he's nervy, and it's not just the idea of moving to a different city. Now he's at the airport, with less than an hour before he flies, it's all suddenly become a lot more real.

But Robin isn't here.

He'd have thought at least she'd be able to man-up and say goodbye. If Ted and Marshall can do it (although he's caught both of them wiping their eyes), then for Robin this should be a cake walk.

As Ted and Marshall stand by the departure board, laughing at some private joke, Lily takes his hand and squeezes it. She may look calm, but he can tell by the way she gnaws her bottom lip that this is difficult for her.

"What's up, guys?"

Barney and Lily both turn and Robin almost runs into them, dragging a wheelie bag behind her.

"Going somewhere, Scherbatsky?" He says, feeling hot and uncomfortable beneath her cool appraisal.

"Oh, hey Robin!" Ted says, stepping forward to give her a hug. "What's in the bag?"

"I... have an interview for a job," Robin says, a smirk playing across her lips, "Political field reporter."

"Whoa!" Marshall says with enthusiastic surprise. "That's awesome! Where is it?"

Barney knows before she says the word. "Washington," he mouths it along with her.

"Washington? But that's where Barney's going. That's a co-incidence…" Marshall trails off and the four of them turn to look accusingly at Robin, then at Barney.

"What?" He protests.

"Are you running away together?" Ted accuses him.

Barney knows that he should be scared, because the last woman who followed him anywhere was a crazy psycho stalker. But he doesn't feel any of that. Robin's giving him that conspiratorial look, her eyes dancing with humour, and he can't help but grin.

"Hey, I might not get the job," she says, inspecting her nails.

"You'll get the job," Barney says, still grinning. "So, you're following me to Washington?"

"Oh, get over yourself," she says with an arched eyebrow. "Interview, remember?"

Something that he feels has been lost between them for the longest time, some attraction, some connection, he feels it spark. Maybe it's the way Robin's eyes darken as she focuses her attention on him? Maybe it's just that, right now, she's the coolest, most kick-ass woman on the planet.

And, yeah, it went so wrong between them last time they tried to get together. But this time they won't have any meddling friends around trying to force them to define what they have on their terms.

Robin winks at him, and he knows. He just _knows_ that this is the start of something beyond awesome. They're Barney-and-Robin again, and he couldn't be happier.

"Okay, let's go," he says briskly, taking Robin's case. "Let's shake the dust of this dirty, no-good city off our shoes."

Robin grins, embracing Lily, holding her tight and whispering something in her ear.

"Hey," Ted says, taking Barney's arm to stop him. "We'll miss you, Bro."

Taking a breath, and looking around the bustling airport, Barney takes in the scene. His friends of so many years, standing around him, smiling and wishing him a safe journey. Ted, taking this way harder than he'd ever have guess. "Okay," he says with a sigh. "As my last act as your wingman and best friend for a very long time, Ted Mosby…."

He leaves the gang and walks the few feet over to the airport bar, tapping a girl on the shoulder and pointing over at Ted, whispering a few magic words into her ear before rejoining the group and finishing the sentence.

"…something tells me you should go talk to that girl."

Ted laughs and claps him on the shoulder. There are kisses from Lily and a bear hug from Marshall that is so tight that Barney fears for his ribs. Then finally, he and Robin break away from the group and head for the security check-in.

"You know," he says when they're out of earshot of the rest of the group. "They'll never believe that we didn't plan this."

She gives him a sly look. "Uh-huh."

"You got anywhere to stay while you're in DC?" he asks mock-casually, as they wait in line. She shakes her head. "Only there's this hotel I'm staying at, just while they get my apartment ready. I hear the bedrooms are pretty spectacular."

She laughs and flips the ends of her hair playfully. "Maybe I'll get a room?"

Grinning, he rolls his eyes. "Sure you will, Scherbatsky." She never makes things easy for him. But then again, he wouldn't want her any other way.

Maybe sometimes, people get a second chance. And maybe some particularly special people get more than two. They keep giving each other chances because they can't stand the though of letting each other go.

He smiles as he feels her slide her hand into his.

_Awesome_, he thinks. Washington, here we come.

**The End**


End file.
